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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28990104">Salvation Through Kisses of Flame</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Restitutor_Orbis/pseuds/Restitutor_Orbis'>Restitutor_Orbis</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Leliana just has a big heart and wants to show Amayian how much she cares for him, it's about the yearning and comfort everyone, the inquisitor was a companion in DAO</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 10:00:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,510</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28990104</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Restitutor_Orbis/pseuds/Restitutor_Orbis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Leliana recalls how Amayian got the scars on his back, and wants to show him how much she appreciates him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Inquisitor &amp; Leliana (Dragon Age), Inquisitor/Leliana (Dragon Age), Leliana/Trevelyan (Dragon Age), Male Inquisitor/Leliana (Dragon Age)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Salvation Through Kisses of Flame</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>It's about the yearning for comfort and healing for the Inquisitor and Leliana for me, guys, plus scar kisses are hot. Hope you all enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Leliana remembered the first time she had seen the wounds Amayian had taken for her, after they ventured into the Temple of Sacred Ashes a decade past. The sight was a horrid mess, with three long gashes pupping rivers of blood down the length of his back. Amayian had not screamed, seemingly barely about to feel the pain, before collapsing into Leliana’s arms. Panic had taken her, fear twisting knots into her stomach, and she had tried to stop the blood from flowing as much as she could. Wynne had later told her that her efforts were not needed, but were helpful regardless. It did not help ease the guilt and worry she had felt for the boy. He had only been a boy then, little older than seventeen. Sometimes, perhaps more times she would have liked to admit, Leliana forgot that he was a man now. She still remembered the softness of his cheeks, the paleness of his tanned skin, the hint of youthful ignorance in his eyes. More times she would had liked to count, Leliana had pestered him about combing his curly locks, often in a tousled mess from his fingers, doing it herself, or asking him had he eaten food or drink water, half-of-mind to monitor it herself, regardless of her own hypocrisy. Often that got her a hint of something soft within his molten golden eyes, like scarlet-tipped golden suns, and a murmur of a smile on his scarred lips. She would have been lying if she said the faint smile or gaze did not affect her in a certain way, but it was not as if he did not prattle on about her health as well. The worry only she was able to detect in his collected, even tone always made her smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the sight of the scars never did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Guilt throttled her heart, turned her stomach into a churning storm, flung about, up and down, and side-to-side, as Leliana gazed at the scars. The blood was gone, the skin mended faintly together by magic. The dying fire within the hearth sent streaks of gold and scarlet over his broad back, revealing the paled jagged scars, gone white from the years, stroking from shoulder to waist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had not faded away, not entirely, and Leliana shifted a little, tugging the blanket up to her chin, hiding her nakedness from view, and stared. Chewing at her lip, she recalled how deathly ill Amayian appeared to have been the few days after the battle, the wounds growing worse by his insistence of seeing the ashes for himself, and refusing to leave the temple until all three of them had departed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s as foolish then, as he is now. Some things truly do not change. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The thought brought a smile to her lips, the corners perking up a touch. But the guilt still plagued her, the images of his collapsing etched into her mind replayed over and over. Smiling felt wrong, yet how could she not, knowing that he was not dead, and that he was safe...with her. That pushed away the guilt into a giddy warmness which caused her heart to flutter and her stomach to flip, in a good way this time. He was safe, and yet…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing?” asked Amayian, not turning away, his tunic still scruffled at the ends of his forearms. His curling black hair was growing longer, falling a little past his ears, in an endearing way; and he was so tall that it took Leliana sitting on her knees to reach the top scar. The blanket felt away as her hands roamed his back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Humming, she smiled, finger tracing the length of the top one. The milky white bled away to a pinkish-color at the ends. Leliana paid them half-mind. “Just remembering…” Her voice seemed absent, even to her. The image of Amayian lying in his bedroll, sweat pouring down his face, pain flickering faint over his features, flash like lightning in her mind. Leliana pressed her head against his back, and kissed the top scar. “Just remembering,” she repeated again, to herself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How I almost lost you; how you never seem to care about your own safety, even at death’s gate. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Her throat clogged, and she chewed her lip harshly to keep back the pain. Leliana felt him tense beneath his lips, the muscles shifting into a hard clench. Touching was still a foriegn thing to him.  Amayian tried to turn to face her, but a soft push against his shoulders halted him. “Please...give me a few moments.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Inquisitor made no noise to protest, and instead turned away, back-muscles still drawn tight. Swallowing, she tried to smile, tried to push away the images of the blood pooling over the back of his legs and at his feet. Another kiss she pressed against the top one, before following its slanting path down. One, two, and three, her finger falling it as well, memorizing every slant and curve and bump, every hill which formed from the years. Every hill they were forced to go over, by themselves. But now they were here, together, drawn into different paths but merging once more, either by destiny or something else or by nothing. They both would need time to get used to climbing their hills together, and yet Leliana held confidence they would be able to do so. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She felt his muscles unclench rather than lax, a soft message unspoken to tell her that it was alright to continue. Her smile grew at that, the pain mending a little. Not much, but a little. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leliana moved onto the next one. As she did so, her other hand wandered over the one she had just kissed, and then again to the middle as she descended to the lowest. Her heart raced in her chest, and her hands flowed over the length of his back in circles when she had finally pulled away. “You’re perfect,</span>
  <em>
    <span> ma amour</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was met with a broad, hairy chest, pulled by muscled arms, into a tight embrace, warm and safe. Leliana felt his face nuzzle close to her hair. Stroking circles into his chest, following the length of the long, jagged scar which sprawled from his right shoulder down to his left hip, she let her other hand play with the curled locks at the nape of his neck. “What’s wrong?” asked Leliana, in a soft voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t deserve you,” whispered back Amayian, his deep voice quavering for a moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leliana scoffed at that, and pulled the man’s face away, cupping it with her hands, drawing over the sharp edge of his cheekbones. “You’re a fool to think so, Amayian.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s I who do not deserve you.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Surprised filled her at the sight of tears in his eyes, welling and glittering by the faint touch of firelight. Pushing up so she was in his lap, and pulling his head down so their foreheads met, she whispered, “You deserve everything and more, my love.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Everything that is better than I</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Doubt plagued his eyes, but Leliana did not give him the chance to argue against it. Her lips pressed heatedly, lovingly, against his. For everything that was hard and sharp about the man, his lips were soft, though scarred as they were. He kissed as if exploring her for the first time, delicate and soft and searching. Leliana felt her heart flutter at the softness, with the touch of eagerness there as well. One of her hands slipped into his mane of black curls, some of her fingers playing with locks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they pulled away, breathless and flustered, Amayian spoke, “Let me worship you, Leliana.” He bent low, letting his lips graze softly over her shoulder, hesitate, waiting for her permission.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leliana shivered in pleasure, and a desire filled her to let him continue. But she halted herself, thinking that there would be time for her worship to come. For now...she had some remedies to fulfill. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luckily, she had taught herself how to easily guide a larger opponent to her choosing with weight, and it did not take much to push Amayian back onto the bed, the Spymaster of the Inquisition straddling his waist. She felt the heat of the heart blaze into life, no doubt by the man’s magic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Smiling down at him, she followed the length of his abs with her finger, watching his stomach shudder with a slight touch. She felt his heavy, large hands on her waist, with a soft and firm grip. “There will be time for you to have me all you like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ma amour</span>
  </em>
  <span>. For now…” She bent down, tilting her head and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, nibbling at the skin there, “let me worship you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Leliana took the joys of hearing the slight hitch of his breath with the roll of her hips and marking of her teeth. By the end of the night, she would have it known how glad she was to have him by her side. </span>
</p>
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